The GaGa...

I have seen the Lady in concert. That's right--this past Friday, Sanja, her lovely sister Sanda, and I trekked to the Rosemont Theatre to catch a glimpse of the legend. That glimpse was actually an incredibly satisfying 3+ hour concert experience. And of course, because I don't have to explain the musical merits of a gem like "Bad Romance," you best believe I'm here to write about the costumes.

SWEET JESUS, THE COSTUMES.

First of all, I have to give quick props (kids still say that, right?) to her first opening act, Semi-Precious Weapons. Their music is a little screamy for my tastes, but I'll be damned if they're not trying to set themselves up to be the next Of Montreal. The male lead singer has the greatest set of gams I've ever seen, and walks in heels far better than I ever will. Tie-dyed tights and sparkly silver ankle boots? I considered rushing the stage just to beg him to be my shopping buddy. Oh, and any band that sells a t-shirt declaring "I can't pay my rent, but I'm gorgeous" earns an A+ in my gradebook.

The main event? Guys. GUYS. She didn't dissapoint. I mean, at one point, she was wearing a metal cutout bikini with a gold viking helmet. She had her Where the Wild Things Are moment with a huge shaggy coat that was later discarded to show off a black leotard contraption. That's one of the best parts about her clothing--all of it is a kind of contraption.

Now, here's the thing about her costume choices that's going to get her into gender studies textbooks about 5 years from now: even though she's often running around onstage in bikinis or hot pants, she goes out of her way to not appear typically sexual. She's not humping the stage or her dancers; she's contorting her body like she's having a seizure, letting the dancers do whatever they want to her, and often letting those same dancers have the spotlight. It's fascinating, because she's said something to the same effect herself--that girls don't need to see any more female artists licking lollipops on album covers. GOD, she's perfect.

Was I good enough to get pictures of this? Of course not. Me? Take a photo instead of write numerous paragraphs? No thank you. I lost track of her costume changes after #7, but that's just because I was too busy trying to hear any faints strains of "RA-RA-RA-ROMAN."

One last thing: anyone who thinks she's not the next Madonna/a better version is cukoo-ka-choo. Half of the aforementioned bikinis featured cone bras. Oh, and Madge? THE LADY LOOKED WAY BETTER IN THEM.